Death and Freedom: Visions of Death
by Fish-Inton
Summary: Hannibal Lecter was once a relatively normal man... what sent him over the edge? Just something that came through when struggling with The Dreaded Block.
1. Disclaimer

Do we have to? Okay...  
  
Disclaimer: Much as I'd like to, I own not one smidgen of the Hannibal Lecter world. I do own the Original Characters throughout and all that you do not recognise unless I note otherwise at the beginning of a chapter.  
  
A/N: this is sort of AU - Lecter is much younger in this fic and has been noticed by a respected psychiatrist, Doctor Hayman. Hayman is mentor to the younger Lecter and takes him to nearby asylums to further his understanding of the mind.   
  
This fic is based on a 'What If' I had when washing my hair...  
  
Mischa is involved somewhat, so it's still with the whole Lecter thingy and I'm trying my hardest to keep the Good (and young) Doctor in character.   
  
ENJOY!  
  
Shifter1 


	2. Chapter 1

The wiry young man sat behind a small oak desk, contemplating many a subject including the recurring dreams he had recently been experiencing. His past haunted him, day and night, which was why, in the free time he had on occasion, he attempted to block it completely from his life. Though he could not forget her.   
  
Not startled at all by the sudden entry of one of his superiors, the young and aspiring psychiatrist turned around in his swivel chair and stood with a masculine grace, unique to he and he alone. He turned to face the much older man of fifty-two and smiled his later famous smile. The older man, who wore a considerably expensive looking suit, offered his hand to the younger man.  
  
Shaking the proffered hand, the young man thought to himself how much like the older psychiatrist, his mentor and colleague, he wanted to become. Yet he was not. He was himself and nobody else would change him. He wanted all the older man had, yet he wanted to be himself - he wanted to accomplish everything his mentor had in his own way.   
  
He wanted success.   
  
These thoughts occurred the few fleeting moments the men shook hands in greeting and pushed away the darker thoughts of his past.  
  
"Doctor." The young man acknowledged the older therapist with a slight inclination of his sleek head, which was returned courteously. "I have received your notes on the case and have noted a few points on which I would like to elaborate."  
  
"Always sharp and to the point, as usual, Hannibal."  
  
"I try so hard, Doctor Hayman, I really do." The younger replied with sarcasm, causing the wiser of the two to chuckle.  
  
"You received my message, I trust?" Doctor Hayman queried.  
  
"Yes, the asylum visit." Hannibal recalled. "What time, may I ask, are we expected at the institution?" The young man queried.  
  
"Any time from eleven o'clock onwards." The psychiatrist replied to Hannibal, observing the small, neat office he stood in. "Come, perhaps we can discuss the notes you have outlined in red marker pen as we walk to the car."  
  
"The Bentley." Hannibal stated.  
  
"You learn quickly." And they left the office, Hannibal retrieving his folder of notes as they went. The only decidedly bad thing, in Hannibal's opinion, about Doctor Hayman was his need to suffocate those around him with his insufferably strong aftershave.  
  
At least the asylum was well ventilated. 


	3. Chapter 2

Having inconspicuously walked one step ahead of Doctor Hayman so as to avoid suffocating on the insufferable aftershave, Hannibal reached the Bentley perhaps only a millisecond before the older man - but it was enough to ensure he could breathe. Hayman unlocked the passenger door before skirting around the car to unlock his own door.  
  
With a turn of the key, the Bentley soundly came to life and purred out of the car-park of the local psychiatric clinic. Driving down the one way road towards the main road which, after three miles, led to the nearest institution: Baltimore State Hospital. The journey was spent discussing notes and articles in the latest psychiatric magazines both happened to read. Often, Hannibal would show his understanding of subjects by theorising and expanding on whatever he happened to be thinking.   
  
Stepping from the Bentley and inhaling deeply the fresh air which he was extremely grateful for; he had, after all, spent the last twenty or so minutes in a car that was scented as much, if not more, that its' owner. Add the fact that it was winter and therefore air conditioning was not used all that often and you have Hannibal Lecter's ideal hell - without adding his troubled thoughts of his past which, thankfully, had receded for the while.  
  
Walking as they had before, Hannibal one step ahead of Hayman, in companionable silence, th two entered the hospital through the front doors and went straight to reception.  
  
"Doctor Hayman, so nice to see you again." The receptionist greeted the older man with a small smile before looking to the younger of the two. "This must be Doctor... Lecter?" Hannibal inclined his head in greeting, maroon eyes flashing mischeviously at her, making her flush a little. He loved to do that - messing with people... he was bored, so it was all he could think of without pounding something. He was feeling destrictive. He'd have to draw something when he returned home.  
  
"Yes, young Hannibal here will be interviewing your newest patient." Doctor Hayman announced. "Is Doctor Lester here?"  
  
"Yes, he's showing another young man around. If you'd care to wait in his office?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Thankyou." Hannibal said, following the older psychiatrist, assaulted with the aftershave once again. When would it end?  
  
*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: I knwo these chapters are really short, but I'm stuck at the moment on all things Lecter and my interests have been kidnapped by Harry Potter fanfiction. I'm struggling with this, but will see it through! lol. The title to this may change also 


End file.
